Page 39 of Savage Hero

Watching Nyx eat is an education. I’m not sure what I’m learning, but I don’t want it to stop. She eats like this is her last day on earth, but then she’ll pause every few seconds and move whatever escaped her fork thus far like she’s trying to Feng-Shui her plate.

I still don’t want anyone except me near Nyx. While I’m sure I’ve figured out Sergio’s intentions, I can’t take a chance that I’m wrong. So that means I have to feed her, and that’s why I tell myself I’m in her room again.

There’s no conversation. Every time I try to talk to her, she throws me a glare and carries on eating.

I’m starting to wonder if she was starving herself before we met. Maybe she’s so dirt poor, a home-made cheeseburger and fries is the best meal she’s had all month. The meal I ate with Vito has turned to a ball of lard in my stomach, so I don’t even bother joining her.

When her plate is empty, besides the tomatoes she dragged off her burger like they had the plague, she pushes it aside and downs half her beer. Then she burps behind a hand that seems more an afterthought and sits back on the couch, studying me over the neck of her bottle.

“Not hungry?” she asks, before tipping the bottle against her lips.

“I don’t eat much.”

She scans my shoulders, my stomach. Sneers a little. “How am I supposed to trust you when you keep lying to me?”

I sit forward, dangling my beer in the space between my spread-apart legs. “I don’t eat often, but I eat a lot when I do.” I tilt my head to the side. “Satisfied?”

She scoffs, puts her ankle over her knee. Glances around the room like she’s searching for better entertainment than I’m offering. There’s a flatscreen against the wall opposite the bed, but I don’t think she’s turned it on even once.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” she asks. “I do have a life, you know.”

I catch myself in a faint smile, and hurriedly smooth my face. “So tell me about it.”

She frowns as she sips at her beer. Her eyes aren’t on me. “My life? Boring as fuck. I’d put you to sleep.” Those blue eyes flicker to me, dark and unreadable. “Possibly forever.”

I roll my bottle between my fingers. “Your parents still alive?”

“Seriously, what is this? Why do you care?”

“Who said I care?”

She scowls. Drops her shoulders. Sighs dramatically. “No parents. Two sisters.” Her gaze flashes to me again. “But you knew that already.”

“How long has it been just the three of you?”

“Too long.” She sips at her beer, blatantly studying my body again. “Gym bunny, right? How many hours do you waste in the gym?”

“Waste?”

She shrugs, refusing to explain herself.

“Two, three hours. Depends how desperate I am to go to sleep.” The last just slips out, and my jaw ticks when I hear what I just said.

Nyx’s face scrunches up in a brief frown. “All those murders weighing on your mind, huh?”

I sit back in my seat and slowly mimic her, crossing my ankle over my knee. As soon as I do, she pulls her legs onto the couch and folds them under her. “How many hours a week do youwasteat Brennan’s?”

Nyx stiffens. Her eyes flicker as if she wants to look away, but her jaw tightens like she’s forcing herself not to. “Thank God I don’t keep a diary on my phone. I’d just die if you found out about my One Direction crush.”

“You ever go pro with your boxing?” I scan her, spending more time on her shoulders and arms than anything else. “Or do you just go there to flirt with Liam?”

A touch of color springs onto her cheeks. It could be anything—anger, shame—but I’m instantly pissed off that I got such a visceral response from just mentioning the guy’s fucking name.

I should havetaken my Beretta into that boxing club.

“So when’s the wedding?” I’m like a dog with a bone—or like Bella with a torso—but I can’t help myself.

Nyx snorts. “Wedding? Please. What’s the fucking point?”

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